A Needed Discussion
by kakaiescheck
Summary: After a drunken and sexy night to celebrate their six months of marriage, Kurt notices a pattern in Blaine's behavior that needs to be addressed before they go at it again. Maybe there's something there for them to explore, but only after they have a conversation about it.


**So, this has been on my mind for the longest time. It's my headcanon, so you obviously don't have to agree with it, but, in case you do, enjoy.**

**PLEASE, BEWARE. If dom/sub stuff triggers you in any way, this may not be the fic for you and you can find less risqué Klaine fics on my profile from some years ago. It won't hurt my feelings. Although this isn't nearly as explicit and dirty as a lot of fics out there, it still deals with the early stages of figuring things out and navigating those feelings, so be careful reading it. If it makes you uncomfortable, click the hell out.**

**Otherwise let your imagination roam free ;)**

* * *

Rain was petting down the window, the perfect soundtrack for a lazy Sunday. It wasn't too warm or cold, which was a welcome change for New York City. Kurt could feel a dull ache behind his eyelids, curtesy of the previous night's drinking, but it was nothing more than a small nuisance. Not nearly bothering enough to get him to care.

With a content sigh, he reached out instinctively, and quite lazily, until he found skin – warm, smooth, delicious skin. His _husband's_ skin.

Six months later and it was still hard to wrap his head around it sometimes. Other times it felt like second nature: of _course_ Blaine was his husband. What else would he be? But then he remembered that Blaine was barely of drinking age and, yeah, some people found that weird, but, then again, he had stopped caring a long time ago. Other people didn't matter.

Which is why they had cleared their schedules of work shifts and homework to spend the entire weekend with each other, celebrating those six months. Life in the city could run you over if you weren't careful, and Kurt would never let himself be reckless about that again.

That brought him full circle to this moment – eyes still closed with sleepiness, foggy mind, far too comfortable for it to be legal, hand resting on Blaine's side. He wanted to stroke his skin, but he didn't have enough energy to move. And maybe that was the beauty of it, of lazy, sleepy, rainy Sunday mornings with his husband. Just a touch to keep them connected. Feet always entangled, no matter how much they moved throughout the night, and now a gentle hand on his side.

Blaine was the most adorable thing Kurt had ever seen when he was waking up slowly. After a while, he turned his body to face Kurt, although they were both still with their eyes closed and half asleep, and buried himself into his chest with a happy groan.

Kurt most likely fell asleep again. He wasn't sure and he didn't care.

Although he wasn't out for long, probably, because his foggy mind registered himself lying on his back and Blaine's head on his shoulder, in a cuddlier version of how they'd been before. It might have been the slight hangover – lord knew that they were both out like rocks when drunk –, but they usually moved around more, so the fact that they hadn't suggested that Kurt hadn't been out for long.

Anyway, it didn't matter, because they had a free day ahead of them, to do whatever they pleased. They could get up only to get some late lunch, for all they cared.

Actually, Kurt kind of had to get up now, for a bit, to go to the bathroom, and extracting himself from Blaine was always hard, but he got it done. When he came back, it was to grabby hands from a bleary-eyed husband and a warm, far too comfortable bed.

He drifted off again at some point, only coming to his senses (sort of) when he felt Blaine climbing into bed. It took him a few moments to deduce that he had gone to the bathroom too and was now returning. All he could do, though, in his current state, was grab the man by the waist and spoon him from behind.

"Hmm, and you say _I'm_ the cuddly one," Blaine said in a rough voice, and Kurt could hear the smile in it.

He didn't answer, choosing to groan indifferently and pull him closer. Their joined left hands rested on Blaine's stomach, their wedding bands brushing each other. Subconsciously, Kurt felt his body moving, a mix of sleepiness and the feel of Blaine's naked skin against his leaving him half hard before he was even properly awake. As though second nature, Blaine moved his hips back in synch, a sigh leaving his lips.

That went on for a while. Just sleepy humping. His whole body felt sluggish, and Kurt loved the feeling. It was like he was still drunk.

Blaine turned his head a bit to bite Kurt's arm that was under his head, pulling his teeth against the soft skin of his inner biceps. He continued his ministrations while Kurt buried his face in his shoulder blades, hips never stopping.

It was easy to lose himself, and he guessed that was sort of the point of lazy, rainy Sundays with his husband – having half-asleep sex first thing in the morning. It was intimate. It was hot. It was theirs. It was everything he ever wanted and more.

But then he pulled on Blaine's hip to get him to lay on his back and he came willingly, almost too willingly. His mouth fell open when Kurt's lips touched it, his tongue not battling for dominance and just accepting. He didn't fight the restraint of Kurt's fingers around his wrists, pushing his hands against the mattress and holding him in place. His legs made room for him between them before Kurt even moved his knee to do just that.

It wasn't out of the ordinary. Blaine had always been compliant when it came to sex, once they had gotten the hang of it, years ago. There had been a moment, in the beginning, when Kurt had still been building his confidence and they had still been trying to find themselves, switching from top to bottom to experiment what they liked. It had taken a few months to navigate, and then they'd broken up and everything, but ever since they'd gotten back together (the first time) they had their preferences.

Compatible preferences, thankfully, although they still switched occasionally. They didn't need to label themselves and stick to it for the rest of their lives. That was the beauty of trusting each other – being able to experiment and trade places.

Which brought Kurt to his current predicament. It was _hard_ to focus, alright, but his mind filled with flashbacks; mostly to the previous night and their drunken asses in the living room, but there had been other instances. Instances when Blaine had looked at him like _that_ and dropped to his knees, almost moaning with relief at just doing that. Instances when he'd offered and Kurt had asked a bit more demandingly than usual, and he had gladly done it.

Instances, like right now, when he moaned at being pinned down, and the sound went straight to Kurt's groin and he had the urge to push him down more forcefully until he couldn't move under him.

With an immense amount of self-control, Kurt held back said urge and pulled his lips away from his husband's, muttering into the small space, "We have to talk."

As expected, Blaine just moved his mouth to Kurt's jaw, nibbling and kissing. "Okay."

Kurt grunted at the breathy, devoted tone of voice and forced his head up and his neck away from Blaine. "I meant now. We have to talk now."

"_Kurt_," he whined, wrists moving in their restraint but not enough to free themselves.

"I promise it's important."

"After," he insisted, straining his neck out to try and catch his lips. In reflex, Kurt gripped his wrists tighter and pushed his chest against his to keep him down, and it happened again: a whine of pleasure escaped Blaine's throat and he threw his head back.

Kurt exhaled once, out of breath at the sight. "That. We have to talk about that."

Finally, Blaine met his eyes for more than a second and stopped pressing his thighs onto Kurt's hips so tightly. Some of the lust cleared from his gaze as he seemed to understand and his blush intensified. "Oh."

After a moment's hesitation, Kurt carefully took his hands from Blaine's wrists, noticing how the skin there was a little redder than the rest of his forearm. He disentangled himself and sat up against the headboard, taking some of the comforter with him. Blaine choose to remain horizontal as he caught his breath.

Well, here he was, and Kurt didn't know how to start this conversation. He knew they had to have it, and that it was the responsible thing to do, and he knew he could talk to Blaine about literally anything, but words were failing him.

"Is this because of last night?" Blaine asked, one forearm over his forehead, eyes on the ceiling.

Kurt knew that, given the opportunity, and due to his husband's still flushed cheeks, Blaine would blame it on the copious amounts of alcohol they had had, so he decided to cut right to the chase before that excuse was presented. "Well, yeah. That was… something else. But it wasn't the first time it happened."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Was it too much? It was too much. I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry–"

"I wasn't uncomfortable," Kurt cut off what was probably going to be a long, self-deprecating rant. "If anything, I was worried about making _you_ uncomfortable, or pushing you too hard."

That's what was bothering Kurt the most, the fear of crossing a line. He wasn't a Neanderthal – he didn't completely lose his mind in a lust-filled haze in the middle of sex. However, it was harder to pick up hints and clues when they were both sweating and moving with each other, pleasure cursing through their bodies. It was easier to forget. It was easier to slip up.

"Is your throat okay?" he asked worriedly when Blaine didn't offer anything.

"'S fine."

"Your voice's rough."

At that, Blaine rolled his eyes and gave him a look. "Because I've just woken up. Because I'm dehydrated from that much alcohol."

Or because he had let Kurt fuck it as much as he wanted and Kurt had lost himself in it.

_He had to grab Blaine tightly around the waist so he didn't fall backward and out of his lap. It was honestly a miracle that none of them had fallen from the couch to the ground yet, after so many shots of cheap vodka and laughter outbursts._

"_I can't open it," Blaine giggled against his neck, struggling with Kurt's shirt buttons. "Kurt. Kurt, I can't – I forgot how buttons work."_

"_Figure it out, Mr. Smarty-Pants," he retorted, referring to earlier when Blaine had been spouting all kinds of random trivia and making fun of him for not knowing them. "Since you know everything."_

_He whined, kissing his neck more desperately, hands fumbling. "Hm, pants. Pants, that's a good idea. Why did we even put them on?"_

"_We had to go to the store to get the vodka."_

"_Oh, yeah. Hm, you look good in those pants, though. Really good."_

"_Oh, I know," he chuckled, pulling on Blaine's thighs to get him closer._

_Their mouths found each other again and they kissed messily, uncoordinated hands traveling the other's body. After a while, Blaine pulled back with another whine, eyes full-blown with want, and he leaned his forehead against Kurt's, breathing heavily. "Please let me blow you. Please, please, please."_

_Kurt found it strange that he would even ask like that. They had been giving each other blowjobs for, like, more than three years now. He couldn't be bothered to do the math right, but it was a long time. Long enough that he didn't need to ask._

_But he _did_ ask, so Kurt breathed out, "Yeah."_

_A moan came from deep in Blaine's throat as he slid to the ground in one fluid movement, thankfully not falling backward. He sat back on his ankles, between Kurt's legs, and focused on getting the zipper down and the button out of the way (which required a lot of his concentration). Kurt's brain was all foggy, so he only registered a burst of pleasure and his hand jumped to grab Blaine's hair, with barely any gel left in it._

"_Tell me what you want," Blaine said when he pulled back a little._

_The only answer Kurt could give him was push his head down again, a bit more roughly than he had intended. Blaine didn't complain, though, and went down as much as he could, which was a lot, after years of practice. With his hand, he held what his mouth couldn't reach as he settled into a rhythm._

_On his first attempt at saying something, no sound came out of Kurt. Then he tried again. "Use… the other hand."_

_Blaine didn't question it, in fact he seemed to get it, as he did what he was told – eyes on Kurt's, unwavering –, now making sure that his wedding band dragged on the skin. It was one of the hottest sights Kurt had ever seen. That man right there, his only goal right now was to pleasure Kurt, and he was _his_, only his, as proven by that ring on his finger._

_Kurt was familiar with possessiveness, but now it filled him, making him grunt and grab Blaine's hair tighter to direct his movements. Even in his drunk, horny fog, though, and with his incoordination, he reminded himself of Blaine's limit and didn't press further than that._

_There were long moments of pure bliss until he could feel himself getting closer to the finish line and moving his hips more sloppily. Usually, Blaine would keep a hand on his hip to control how far he could go, but not this time. He had been doing that less and less over the last few months, and now he abandoned it completely. "Don't hold back."_

_Kurt blinked down at him. "What?"_

"_You can fuck my mouth all you want. However hard you need."_

_At first, he was careful, figuring that Blaine would still stop him at any time for hitting his throat like that. But he never did. He let him use him until he was coming deep in his mouth, hand still tangled in his hair too tightly._

He brought himself back to the present. "I'm serious, Blaine. You're a singer. You should've stopped me."

Blaine looked away and finally pushed himself into a sitting position against the headboard, sighing. He wasn't meeting his eyes. "Why would I stop you if I was the one who told you to do it?"

"Because you can tell me to stop at any time. You know that."

"But I didn't want you to stop. I… Maybe I came in too strong, but I promise you that you didn't do anything I didn't want." He chuckled to himself. "It was actually hard trying to get you to do anything like that in the first place."

Kurt remembered. The memories were a bit hazy, but he remembered how much he'd had to hold himself back. It was like Blaine knew all the buttons to push, what to say and how to move, to make him lose more control than usual. He had been _begging_, literally on his knees, for Kurt to use him. He had let himself be thrown onto the couch and held down, moaning, and had asked Kurt to _use_ him.

They had had rough sex before, obviously, and he had thrown Blaine around and pinned him against a large number of surfaces, but something in Kurt had ticked when Blaine had made that request. He had wanted to, _so_ wanted to, and he pretty much _had_, once he'd lost himself in it, but…

Kurt moved to sit more in front of Blaine to grab his full attention. He waited until their eyes met. "Blaine, I would _never_ allow myself to do anything 'like that' without your explicit consent. Beforehand," he added. "I mean, I can read you pretty well, but a moan's just a moan and it can mean a hundred things. We were drunk and we were horny. I wasn't sure if you knew what you were asking me to do."

"Oh, because you were so much more sober and clear-headed," he smiled teasingly, trying to break the tension.

"But that's my point! We can't… dive into that without having a conversation first."

"I know, I know," he closed his eyes briefly. "I didn't mean to push you. You know I lose my filter when I'm drunk. It's completely okay if you're not into it. We don't have to."

Kurt felt his eyebrows raising. "Not into it?"

"Well, yeah. You don't have to force yourself to like something on my account."

He had to be kidding. Did he not know Kurt at all? Had he not been there last night? Did they have different recollections of the way he had given his body and acted like he was a servant? Had he missed Kurt's slowly loss of his self-control?

This conversation was only proving to be more and more needed. Maybe Kurt should have breached the subject some time ago. After all, he had picked up on Blaine's tendency to… ask for orders months ago. In fact, if he stopped to think about it, this "pleasure to serve" had nearly always been there, and not only in his sex life.

"Okay," Kurt said, sitting up straight and taking his husband's hand. "How about this: you tell me what you like and I tell you if I'm into it or not, or if we can try it."

Blaine considered him for a moment, hazel eyes shiny in the soft morning light. "It feels weird to say it."

"What kink doesn't?"

Because that's what there were discussing – _kinks_. They were having an adult, married discussion about sexual kinks and they could do this.

"I won't judge you," Kurt insisted. "I never would. We can talk about this together."

That pulled a small smile from him. "Okay. Yeah, I know. It's just… It's _weird_ saying it out loud, putting it into words. It's much easier to just… you know, be with you in the moment."

"I know. And that's fine for most things we've done so far. But not this, Blaine. I can't just… If we're gonna consider doing this, I need you to give me permission with all the words, while we're both clear-headed." He turned Blaine's hand in his and raised his wrist to his husband. The red was already very faded, but it was still there. "Because of this. I need your permission to do this."

Blaine considered his own skin for a moment before meeting Kurt's eyes again.

"And it's not just that," Kurt continued, lowering their hands. "We're married – I _know_ you. I've known you for years, and I know what you went to therapy for. You have depression." Blaine averted his gaze. "You had to take medication and, at some point, you might need it again. None of that matters to me, as long as you're taking care of yourself, but I also know what else you had to work on in therapy, and that is your tendency to put others before you, to please everyone."

"I got better."

"I know you did. You got so much better, and I worked on myself, too. But you have to understand my concern here."

Blaine lifted one shoulder quickly, still not quite meeting his eyes. "I told you you don't have to like it."

With a huff, Kurt squeezed his hand. "Do you really think we'd be having this deep a conversation if I didn't? Were you even there last night?" He tilted his head at his husband's concealed smile. "I need you to tell me what about all that turns you on so we can discuss how to do this healthily."

A new sense of purpose crossed Blaine's face and he sat up straight, facing him. "Okay."

"Okay."

"I guess, um… I don't know, I like how bossy you can be. And I like being, you know, handled."

"Alright. But I need you to be more specific. No, c'mon," he insisted at Blaine's groan. "I just don't want there to be any misunderstandings. This is too important."

He took a breath to steady himself, closing his eyes briefly and then opening them. "I like it when you tell me what to do and grab my hair to direct me. Or grab any part of me, actually, to put me where you want me."

"When I pulled on both of your thighs to position you – was that too much or…?"

"That was perfect, actually." The blush returned to his cheeks. "It's okay if you're rough. I like it that I can take you to the point where you get like that. And also… You might've noticed my tendency to…"

"Drop to your knees?" he finished. "Very enthusiastically? It has come to my attention, yes. Is that something you…?"

"Yes," he breathed out, as if just the thought alone was enticing. "I love doing that for you."

"It's very hot."

The tone their voices had suddenly taken could lead down a distracting path, so Kurt made sure to shake himself out of it quickly. "So. Being handled. Being told what to do. Getting on your knees. We good so far?"

Blaine nodded.

"Okay. And what about the whole… being pinned down thing?"

At that, Blaine bit his lip for a moment. "It's so very hot, Kurt."

"Okay, but like – You never struggle against me. Not much, anyway. I don't hold you down in a way to restrain you completely, it's just to keep you in place, but is that something you'd like or is it off limits?"

"I don't struggle because you'll let me go if I do," he shrugged, nonchalantly. "And I usually want you to stay."

"… So you _want_ me to immobilize you?"

His hazel eyes were getting that hooded look again. "I'm sure you can, with those NYADA muscles of yours."

"Blaine. I need you to explicitly tell me."

"_Yes_, Kurt, you have my permission to pin me down and not let me go, even if I struggle against your hold."

Kurt nodded slowly, taking it in. "We'll need a safe word, then, so I don't hurt you."

"I can just tell you to stop, if I want."

"No, okay? That's too close to 'don't stop', and I can't waste time second-guessing what you say. It has to be something you would never come close to saying during sex."

"I don't know," he muttered and looked around, probably for inspiration. "Peanut?"

"Peanut?"

"Peanut. Whatever."

"_Blaine_."

"Peanut! That's the safe word. There. Now you don't have to worry."

"Hang on, mister," Kurt pulled on his hand to stop his roaming eyes. "I have more questions about this. Do you want me to only use my body? Or would you be okay with… other kinds of restraints? You know, being tied down."

A smirk started forming in Blaine's mouth. "Would you be using one of your couture scarves?"

"As long as you don't rip them."

"You can tie me down with whatever you want."

That sent a chill down Kurt's back, at the same time spreading warmth to his lower abdomen. "O-okay. Yeah. That could work, yeah. So, um," he breathed deeply. "Being on your knees. Being handled. Being held or tied down. And being told what to do." He paused. "Told or ordered? Because there's a difference."

Blaine gave it a bit of thought. "Well, you don't have to treat me like a Vogue intern –"

"Hey!"

"– but you don't have to say please. So… somewhere in between? We can try it out and I'll let you know if it's too much."

"You have to promise me, though," Kurt scooted forward, to make sure his husband understood the next part. "We _both_ need to enjoy it. You're more important to me than anything. If I were to ever hurt you, physically _or_ emotionally, I would never forgive myself. I won't be able to… allow myself to be like this with you if I'm not one hundred percent sure that you know your boundaries and promise to stop me if it becomes too much."

With a smile, Blaine raised his free hand to cup Kurt's cheek. "I promise."

"And you're _sure_ you're in the right mind state for this? I'm not above asking for a letter from your psychiatrist."

"Kurt," he chuckled.

"No, I'm serious. I want you to speak to Dr. Montgomery before we try this."

Blaine gaped. "That's – Kurt, c'mon. That seems a little excessive. I've been fine for, like, a year."

"I don't joke about your mental health."

"My next appointment is only next month."

"Then we'll wait, or you'll reschedule it."

"Kurt," he scooted forward as well, taking his other hand to hold them both. "I appreciate your concern. Really, it means the world to me that you care so much. But I'm _fine_. I'm stable. Pinning me down during sex isn't gonna get me in that hole again."

"Maybe not, but ordering you around and pretty much putting you in a submissive position might."

There. There was the word they'd been avoiding. It seemed so _kinky_ when it was said like that, so _dirty_, but there was no other word for all that Blaine had described. Kurt had said it before, that they didn't bother with labels when it came to their sex lives, and he didn't want this to be any different – but if there was a label to be put, that was it.

Kurt inhaled, brushing his thumbs over Blaine's hands. "I know you can take the… physical part of what you're asking. I mean, I thought for sure that you were gonna be sore right now, but there you are, cute as ever, sitting like nothing happened."

It had the desired effect and Blaine's frown dissolved into laughter. "It _is_ a bit sore, to be honest, but it's fine. I like to be sore sometimes."

"Yeah. But I'm more worried about the psychological side of things. I need you to be completely okay."

"I am."

"I know. But could you triple-check with your doctor? Please? For my own peace of mind."

It looked like he might argue, but then he conceded with a nod and an understanding tug of his lips, and they sealed it with a kiss. Kurt inhaled deeply through his nose as he deepened it, feeling Blaine's hands coming up to cup his face.

"What about you?" Blaine whispered against his mouth. "Anything _you_ wanna share with the class?"

To be honest, Kurt's wildest dreams usually involved him tossing Blaine around, so that was something else they were compatible at. Instead, he smirked and said, "Well, a handjob with the feeling of your ring is a different level of hot."

"Well, then I guess I'll have to practice it with my left hand."

"I guess so."

Their lips met in the middle, and soon Blaine was climbing over him and laying him down on the bed, their legs tangling together. Kurt ran his hands up the expanse of his back and then back down again.

"Now," Blaine's voice was rough like before as he extracted himself from his lips. "I believe you interrupted us earlier."

"Hm, I should probably make it up to you."

"If you insist."

Kurt soon rolled them over, hovering over Blaine and peppering him with kisses and touches. He didn't move to hold his wrists or restrain him in any way – he was serious about waiting to hear what the doctor had to say before they tried it. For now, he leisurely worked his mouth on his husband's cock and fingered him until he came, body convulsing and delicious noises falling from his throat. Then he was given a very similar treatment, just as drawn out, until they were both satisfied and back to cuddling on that lazy, rainy Sunday morning.

Yeah, life was pretty good right now.


End file.
